


Like an Untimely Frost

by Sharpiefan



Series: The Shakespeare Series [4]
Category: The London Life (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Background Character Death, Canon Compliant, Childhood, Childhood Memories, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Pre-Canon, Tissue Warning, no seriously you will want tissues handy, sadfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7996936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharpiefan/pseuds/Sharpiefan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robbie was thirteen when his younger brother died. </p>
<p>It struck me recently that the death of his younger brother would have affected Robbie growing up. This is that first summer at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like an Untimely Frost

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for canon death of a child. Also, I may have got Lord R somewhat OOC here but I do hope it's at least believably so. Pre-canon. This is not exactly a happy fic.

_Death lies on her, like an untimely frost  
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field_. 

 - Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, scene 5. 

**August 1795. Rotherham Park**

Despite everything, the hols had started no earlier than usual for the sons of Lord Rotherham. Their return home from Eton to Rotherham Park was a deal more sober than usual, not helped by Richard's usual seriousness. Not that Robbie was feeling his usual high-spirited self, even at the prospect of several weeks at home.

There was a curious atmosphere to the house, although things seemed to be much the same as usual on the surface. None of the servants were dressed in mourning, although the family were. The nursery was where things had changed the most – Richard, being now seventeen, had already moved out of the nursery environs to a room in the main part of the house, leaving Viola and baby Olivia in the nursery, where Robbie still slept at night. And it wasn't Richard's absence that Robbie noticed, but his younger brother's, the reason they were all in mourning for the next... three months, he thought it was, vaguely. Or until Lady Rotherham said, which was more to the point.

It wasn't that he disliked Viola, he didn't. It wasn't even that she was younger than Andrew had been – she wasn't; she was two years older, in fact. It was more that she was a girl and even at her age there were things she didn't want to do. And even though Robbie hadn't really been able to take Andrew out to do all the things he'd wanted them to do together, it was more the thought that he would have, one day. And now. Well, now, he wouldn't.

He had never wanted to be back at school so early in the holidays before. Batting a ball around with Richard was a good distraction, but Richard didn't always want to play, of course. And naturally Robbie didn't want to spend all his time indoors, reading or playing chess or whatever else Richard suggested.

He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so much at a loose end, and didn't think it had ever been for this long before. He didn't feel much like playing at anything by himself and definitely didn't want to waste time indoors doing his holiday tasks for school. He wandered down to the stables to see if there was anything he could do down there, and idly stroked Acorn's nose when the pony put his head over the door to see him.

“Well, if it isn't Master Robbie,” said a voice behind him, and Robbie turned to see the head stable-hand crossing the yard. He had apparently been heading to the tack-room but changed direction to approach Robbie.

“I'll saddle him up for thi, then. Tha'll feel better for't,” he said.

“I don't -” Robbie began and swallowed a lump. “Thanks,” he said instead, swallowing another lump as Braithwaite squeezed his shoulder before seeing to the pony.

The estate was big, and private and had good riding country even without leaving the park. Robbie eventually found himself by the lake, at a point where it was bordered by woodland, and out of view of the house. He knew the area – it had been a favourite spot since he had first come here with Richard, when he was about six or seven. There was a rope swing hung from one of the trees, that Robbie knew was renewed every year. He did not feel much like swinging now, though, and looped Acorn's reins over a nearby branch before scrambling down the slope a little to sit, looking over the water.

He had no idea how long he had sat there, occasionally throwing an acorn or pine-cone into the water when he heard Acorn whicker as another rider approached the area. He didn't turn, just stared morosely across the lake, not aware of his thoughts or the other person's presence until his father's voice spoke. “I thought I might find you here.”

He turned his head and made to stand, only for the Earl to scramble down the slight slope to join him on the ground, careless for once of his own clothing getting dirty.

Robbie tossed another acorn into the water, dully watching the ripples spread.

“It's so jolly rotten,” he muttered after a moment. “I was going to bring him up here next year. Show him the best tree for conkers and everything...” He heaved a sigh and subsided back into silence, throwing another acorn desultorily towards the water.

His father shifted position a little to put his arm around his son. Robbie stiffened somewhat at the unaccustomed contact before relaxing slightly gingerly into the comfort offered.

“You could show Viola,” the Earl said after a moment.

“It's not the same – beside, she knows. And she's a girl.”

“Don't hold it against her.”

“I was looking forward to it,” Robbie said, his eyes smarting against unaccustomed tears that he tried fiercely to blink back. He fumbled for his handkerchief, only to have his father's pressed into his hand.

Lord Rotherham let him cry for a few minutes before Robbie heaved a shaky sigh and blew his nose, swiping at his eyes to dry them.

“You know, I wrote to Eastborough the other week,” the Earl said presently, as though Robbie had not just disgraced himself by crying like a _girl_. There was a sniff and Robbie looked up, a slight crease between his brows. Why would that be of any interest to him?

“The Marquess and Marchioness will be coming to stay with us for a while, and they are bringing Alderhan and Ivor with them.”

“I still miss Andrew,” Robbie said, newly aware of a heavy hot ache inside.

“That is only natural, of course." It was a few moments before Rotherham spoke again. "Shall we go in – it will be time to dress for dinner before we know it.”

The Earl got to his feet and Robbie paused, looking up at him. “Papa... Thank you.”

He accepted his father's hand up, and they walked slowly back to the house through the late August afternoon sunshine, leading their mounts, Lord Rotherham's arm around his son's shoulders.


End file.
